I Know
by Neffie K
Summary: As the night draws closer to its end, Sorata and Arashi call out to each other. An unexpected meeting in a place of peace leads these two Dragons of Heaven to make the ultimate decision to be or not to be. From his and her POV.


**A/N: **With much pleasure I post the collaborative work of my good friend and co-writer Riley White. Both of us wanted to analyze the complex relationship between Arashi and Sorata and thus we created this one-shot. He is responsible for "illustrating" Sorata in the deep and wonderful way he has, in this humble dedication to these two characters. The story has importance to me and writing it has allowed some of my personal wounds to heal. I thank Riley for his time, dedication, and patience. This one goes for him.

There is a shift in POV as properly explained before each switch. (This document has not been revised.)

----AS SORATA----

I cannot sleep.

For some hours now I have laid awake in my bed staring at the ceiling. I have counted the wooden planks, bamboo slats and more than a hundred sheep to no avail. So much has happened in so little time that I cannot stop my brain from buzzing with all the thoughts of the past, the future, and the present here in Tokyo.

With a sigh I sit up and run a lazy hand through my short dark hair, pushing the bangs away from my forehead. Knowing that sleep will not come soon, I cross my long legs in a meditative lotus position. Allowing my chaotic thoughts to be free my hands come to rest, palm up on my knees. I close my eyes to the moonlight that pours in through the bedroom window.

Yet I know that I am not alone in the dark. I can hear her voice.

_Arashi._

As though saying her name will somehow magically cause her to appear beside me, I dare to whisper my thought aloud. "Arashi."

I can feel the warmth in the pit of my stomach and the palms of my upturned hands as I enter a self induced trance.

_I believe in the inevitable. _

_My life has purpose. _

_My death will be my choice and on my terms. _

As my breathing becomes shallower and even, I speak again to the dark that surrounds me. "If only I could make you understand."

---AS ARASHI ---

_drip... drip... drip..._

For some reason, when I first laid here, in my bed within my bedroom I knew for certain that I would not close my eyes and sleep. Sometimes it happens that way. When the sun hides behind the mountains and the moon rises I get a sudden feeling. This feeling that keeps me awake at night when it takes me over. So I watch the droplets of water that fall from the faucet of the sink of my bathroom. I always leave the door open, so that on these cruel nights I have something to focus on. Anything that keeps me from digging deeper into the source of pointless questions that arise in my mind. I have lived to hear so many parables. Words spoken that illustrate one story only to teach you another. Why is there so much irony in this world? There it is again. A question that slipped through the numbers I mutter in the darkness. Once again I begin counting from the beginning. How many times are we allowed to start over? This second question makes me start again. The cycle has stopped and begun over a dozen times tonight and still I feel my eyes are wide awake.

I lay on my right side, letting my left arm hang from the bed. I no longer feel much circulation but it reminds me that my body is not numb yet. I still breathe and I still think for myself. What does it matter if my mind is free to think if my fate has been decided? Why and who has the right to use my life as if I were a puppet? One... two... three... I was never allowed to question the destiny that was written for me since before my birth. Such was the way of thinking in the Ise Shrine. I had lost hope in life when I was a young girl but I was convinced that my life had a greater purpose than what I could ever imagine. I believed Kaede because I had no one else to believe in. I had no one and nothing mattered. She offered me a reason to live and thus I accepted. Death never scared me. I learned there that dying for the sake of something was honorable-- but that dying for the sake of selfishness was a disgrace. Why do I question the teachings I so readily accepted before? Is it because I fear dying now that I have...

_Sorata..._

I close my eyes shutting away these insecurities. I have never needed anyone. I repeat this everyday but the reality betrays this phrase. I am powerless against the threads of fate. Is struggling futile? Yet every time I get upset this way I only think of him. Is it because he has proposed to give his life in exchange of mine? Am I in some morbid way, relieved? I clutch my pillow in rebellion to believe I have turned so vain. Why do I sometimes hear him calling me? If only I could understand...

---AS SORATA ---

In my mind I am no longer in my bedroom - instead I walk in the moonlight in a graveyard of sorts, a holy ground without the blight of headstones. The gardens of the monastery have always brought me solace even if only imagined.

There is no wind, and yet I feel cold. My bedtime attire has been replaced with the traditional religious garb of my station. The white cloth glows under the starless sky as though a beacon for others to follow.

My hands are empty, as are my arms. I am comforted only by the silence that surrounds me. Dropping my head forwards slightly I see that my feet are bare against the cool and damp ground, the earth that I stand on cold, and almost mocking.

_Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. We all return to the earth in our own way - even if we are sworn to protect the very thing that destroys it. _

Most of my life I have been hungry - for food, for knowledge, for the joys of life. At this moment I feel only a sense of emptiness in my gut as though there is a part of me missing that nothing can truly fill.

_'My life has purpose,' _I remind myself. As a dragon of heaven I am sworn to protect the one who will decide the fate of the earth - and yet - I know life is not that simple. My thoughts again wonder at the prophecy told to me by the old star gazer - that I would die for a woman, not Kamui.

And so, I have chosen Arashi, and with that choice I am satisfied. But she is not, and I hate her rejection of the gift that I offer, on so many levels.

Should it matter - that love is not returned? Is love enough of a purpose in and of itself that it need not be reflected. Logic would say yes, but my heart aches. I am vain, and in the end even my humor cannot mask the pain in my eyes when I look at her sometimes.

_My choice, my life. It is right, and it is good. The days will pass and so will the sand of our lives. When they are over, they cannot be reclaimed. We walk forward together Arashi and I, linked, and that does not surprise or cause me to fear. _

It is not so simple for my beloved. It is from fear that I wish for Arashi to be free. Fear for me, and fear for herself. For only by believing that there is more can we embrace death and cross to the other side in peace.

---AS ARASHI ---  
I tossed in my bed, embracing my pillow tightly. Tonight the dripping of water only made me more anxious. I closed my mind to the sound but the attempt was fruitless. My mind commanded my legs to move, but they would not listen. Instead they curled up and against my chest as my arms wrapped around them. I felt like a fetus-- a stage of life no human can ever remember. The life of the fetus depends on the mother. They are linked by a cord of flesh and through that link is that its life can be prolonged until birth. What then protects us when we are no longer in the womb of our mother's?

I search for a source of comfort in my surroundings, but the chilling wind that creeps through my window makes my sheets not fulfill its purpose. I tremble with each breath as I seek then into my memories some sort of thought that comforts the ice I feel within my chest. I am brave and I am strong but at night when I am alone with only my thoughts I feel like a coward and I feel very weak. Am I a fool to shut off those who have tried to care for me?

If I were destined to die so soon I do not want anyone to weep for my loss. That is why I act the way that I do. That is why I keep others at a safe distance. I do not mind the emptiness that I feel. So far it had always worked in the past. I always kept to my silence and everyone respected that. No one tried to get closer to me. That was until I met Sorata. Kaede always told me my destiny held importance. Yet how important can my life really be if I am to die for the chosen one? These are my selfish thoughts.

"If I could only chose differently..."

When I open my eyes I find myself no longer laying on my bed. As I uncurl myself, I realize that I am clothed in the traditional priestess kimono of my shrine. In time, I take the courage to stand and face this vision that I had not asked for. My surroundings are unfamiliar to me, yet I feel a connection to these... holy grounds. For some reason one person fills up my mind and before I can catch myself I utter his name, "Sorata..."

--AS SORATA --

The silence is broken by the gentle tone of the gong at the front of the shrine. I close my eyes and let the sound wash over me, marking the beginning of my time of peace here. In this form, I can stay until the gong sounds five times, and only that long. What happens if I stay longer, I do not know, but training suggests that this must be done in moderation.

Already my head feels light above my body; my arms float slightly as though I am suspended in water. My form appears to anyone watching to ripple in the moonlight, not completely solid, and yet not completely without substance.

Slowly I turn as the wind pushes me, and I hear the sound of my own name. At first, I thought it might just be an echo of the gong, but I know now that my request for Arashi to join me has been answered.

I smile and extend my hand. The greeting is deceptively simple, "Hello." As I study her face I add honestly, "Thank you for coming."

--AS ARASHI –

I know better than to let my guard down in a foreign place-- even if I feel no sense of threat. Still, the best spells are illusions of safety that lead to the door of death. Why was I summoned here in the first place and why do I keep feeling the pull of someone calling me. Now I no longer hear a voice, but I can sense a presence that desires for me to venture through this ancient shrine. I walk in slow strides, looking closely at what I step on since my feet are bare. My attention is so focused on the ground that I do not even take time to see what is around me. That was the way I worked-- always focused on one quest in particular and ignoring all other details that did not pertain to my objective. It isn't until I hear his voice that I look up to see him, smiling at me in his usual manner. Why is he standing here? The questions in my mind are endless and I raise one eyebrow in question. I did not like to fool around and I couldn't see a reason for him to summon me in this manner.

"Sorata." I spoke calmly, clasping my hands together, "Why have you called me here?"

I was certain this was all an illusion produced by him. I could simply will my return to my bedroom, but something stronger than me is keeping me with him. Why did I always hesitate to leave him? Such thoughts only led to confusion, so I wisely decided to set them aside.

-- AS SORATA --

I let out a sigh - life with Arashi was never simple, everything required deep explanation - always questions never acceptance.

"I suppose I could have just walked down the hall, but this is more fun don't you think?" I offer with a customary smile and continued to extend my hand.

Looking about I confirm that we are alone, although I'm not entirely sure why I feel we could be observed. This plane is of my own creation and perfectly safe. I suppose it's the times we live in that has made me nervous and makes my contact with Arashi all the more precious.

Her question is a fair one, and I am not entirely sure how to answer. "I wanted to be alone with you to talk."

But now that I have her with me, I am out of words to say. It should be simple. I have so many words for Arashi when we are together, but tonight, I can only think of myself. That doesn't sit well with me. My life has been made for others. To be selfish is wrong. As a wrestle with my conscience I wonder if I am perhaps only about to make matters between us all the more uncomfortable.

"Walk with me." I ask.

--AS ARASHI --

Every time he speaks, he confuses me further-- especially when he says these words. Why should I be the one whom he wishes to speak to? It amazes me that behind that humorous personality lies someone with such extraordinary powers. This entire illusion is almost perfect and I cannot help but be surprised by him. Sometimes he completely amazes me that way. I find myself extending out my own hand to clasp over his. Not because he asked me to, but because I do not want to wander away from him. I fear that if I seclude myself in my own questions, the spiritual link that has brought me here will break and I will be left to roam this realm alone. His hand secures me to his existence here although the touch is like liquid water, and I strangely find my heart at ease.

"Where are we going?"

It seems like a foolish question to ask. It really does not matter where we go. It's the feeling that surrounds us that is making me want to voice my insecurities to this man-- but I never let the desire escape my lips. Something of me as deep as are my thoughts and fears should not be spoken of to anyone. It is dangerous enough that I know these emotions. For some reason I feel nervous here. If he holds my hand will I be able to evade whatever makes me feel uncomfortable? He says he wanted to be alone with me to talk and I don't know what he wishes to talk about. Why take the trouble to summon me here? It must be something important.

"Sorata... I..."

The sentence falls silent from my lips. There is nothing I have to ask of him. My troubles are rooted within me and I find it very unlike me to expect him to understand. Yet I seek someone who can relate to my fears. He and I have the same destiny-- we both will die for the sake of another. Perhaps he has become one with the idea, but I... I haven't. I trained all my life for that moment and now that it's near I do not want to die without... My hands shake a little. I dare not even think anymore. I will wait for the moment to speak.

-- AS SORATA --

Our feet walk as one in slow strides about the cemetery. For that is what it is, a resting place of death and sorrow, and joy at the same time. I know there are no ghosts here, but I can feel a communion with souls that have gone on before me, all part of a larger cloth of life that bends and stretches with time. That makes the hand that I hold, which is warm to the touch, all the more important. She is still alive, and if I have anything to do with that, she will continue to live. Even if it is for only an hour beyond my own time, I want to grant her that.

I listen to her question about where we are going and have no answer. This place doesn't exist, I have nothing to show her, but if we move about, perhaps she will grow more comfortable and accepting.

And I do want her to accept - to accept the love that I have for her and the destiny that we share. Not the destiny that she knows, but the one that is created by choices we will both make equally. I know that Arashi believes I am foolish, and she is right. I believe in fate more than she can know. But I also believe in free will. A strange combination and a difficult one to explain. It has hung between us for long enough. I cannot allow her to believe that my death will be caused by her, or for her to take on a burden of guilt for my choice. Guilt I know has already taken root in her heart to the point that there is no room for me.

I hear her start to question again and then fall silent. Perhaps I have been evasive long enough. It is time to speak and say what must be said. I stop walking and turn to face my guest, my partner, my life. I cannot hold back the love in my eyes - even though I know that it frightens her how I feel, that I can know so definitively my own mind in this matter.

"Arashi," I try to explain. "I have sensed for some time now that you do not believe the words I say to you as I try to explain about the choices of my life. That you are afraid to allow yourself to understand and to feel in return." Hesitantly, I reach up the other hand that I have and gently rest it on the side of her face, caressing her cheek - even though the form before me is not solid. "Perhaps I have used words that are not clear enough. Instead I have made you afraid. Words are powerful - maybe I have been too frugal with them."

The weak smile still resides on my face. Explaining is far more difficult that I thought, which might reveal why there is still confusion between us. For just a moment, I allow myself the luxury of just looking at her. Her beauty has always struck me, but it is not her skin that I am looking at - it is her soul.

"I don't think I have ever come right out and told you how I feel in words of one syllable." For a moment the truth of that strikes me, but I don't allow the natural humor to lighten the mood. She must believe that I am serious and not some clown out for attention.

"I've explained my destiny; that I had chosen you. But that is simply revealing history or discussing the future. It does not explain the heart of the matter." Again the words stick in my throat.

In the distance a gong sounds again - the second of the five chimes allowed.

Still, I will not be rushed. This is too important. "Arashi, I love you."

-- AS ARASHI --

I know that this illusion depends on Sorata and even though I do not like to depend on anyone, holding his hand for guidance doesn't feel wrong. Perhaps in my heart I slowly began to accustom to the idea that he was willing to die for me. Even if the single thought of his sacrifice breaks my heart. Why has he chosen someone like me? I do not give him anything, yet he insists on giving me something so precious. In the end we are all going to die for a common cause, but he has chosen me to protect aside Kamui.

The thought enters my mind and stays: What if one day both Kamui and I are at death's door? Who would Sorata choose then? Will he still want to save me despite the consequences of losing Kamui? I feel his eyes fall on me. I feel as though I were nude and the depth of his gaze over me pains me to the point that I want to look away. Why are his eyes reflecting such a strong emotion? Why can I only see this when he looks at me? Questions. Too many of them have gone unanswered and I am tired of having to struggle.

_I only want to understand._

He speaks my name and it creeps into my flesh. My whole body tingles and I wonder why this sensation is so dominant at this moment. Before it was there, but it was like a feather that caressed my heart. Now it's a stronger touch and it confuses me. I have never felt this before. Foreign feelings frightened me because I do not know what to do with them. I have no defenses against what I do not know.

How does he know of my fear? His words are so accurate that I want to withdraw from his presence, but I cannot move. I want to hear them. I so desperately need to understand. His hand touches my face and the sensation returns to me. As if my skin needed to feel his, an odd need that I don't have much control over. Why do I realize this now? I should not allow this feeling to take me over. He begins to speak and again I am bothered; why does he insist in choosing me?

I hear a gong in the distance and my heart sinks. Are we running out of time here too? His next words distract my focus from the sound and I hold his hand tighter in reflex. He says that he loves me. The words are so powerful that it feels as though my whole body were on fire. They produce an effect that weakens my body yet soothes my heart. I have no words to say to him because I am overwhelmed with the effects his words have over me. I can only stare at him, wishing that my voice returned to me. I can only say his name and even then my voice breaks, "Sorata..."

Never in my life have I felt so confused and so moved and so... the emotions that course through my body are so many. I am afraid to admit what I have been suspecting for such a long time. If he were to never say these words to me, I would so greatly be sad. Why? Why must I desire to hear these words that cause so much turmoil in me? Words that make me feel so complete and yet so guilty. Why guilt? Is it because the sentiment in answer to his confession will never make it past the lump in my throat? Why can I not simply speak of these turbulent emotions instead of staring at him like a lost and confused child.

His eyes say what his words repeat constantly and I fear that he is seeing what I am feeling. It makes me feel so ashamed even though my feelings are not foul. I am afraid. Time is not our ally and if I surrender and give into my weakness I know I will not want to die. Death is my near future and if I savor happiness then I will selfishly refuse to surrender what I had once thought to be a worthless life.

"Can you not see?" I speak without realizing that I am voicing my thoughts, "I am afraid to surrender what you offer me when it is asked of me... I..."

When I realize I have spoken something that should have never left the realms of my mind, I look away. Why can I not hide in this place?

--AS SORATA--

_And how can you not see that it is that very fear that holds you back from being the person you were destined to become. _

I want to touch her, truly touch her, perhaps offer her a comforting hug, but of course in this place it is not possible. Even back in Tokyo such contact would be...unwise.

Like Arashi I understand the dangerous road that flows before us - not just as the protectors of Kamui, but the risks of loving another. Her hesitation is wise, and yet I fault her judgment. All my life I have lived in the moment. That's not to say I have not planned for the future, but ultimately I have to seek only what I need today.

And, I need Arashi. If only for a month, or a week, I want to truly give myself to another and share in what is surely one of God's greatest gifts.

How can she be so blind? How can she not want to grasp with both hands what I offer. Fear is not a satisfactory answer.

I reach out a ghostly hand and then let it fall. If our bodies cannot touch then perhaps for one instant our souls can. Then I realize how selfish I am. If she is afraid now, such intimate contact would be abhorrent and unwelcome.

In my mind I take a step away from the tempting image before me. Perhaps it is best to return to my first objective - to try for a quiet moment of logic to explain my willful choices. For it may be that in the end she cannot accept my emotions.

Instead of my heart's desire, I offer my thoughts and respond to her question on an intellectual level. "Many things may change between now and the day fate has ordained for the end. Therefore, isn't it better to move forward, deliberately, on a path that is true to self and what you believe. To face death as a choice, rather than a sacrifice?

"I said before that I chose you as the one for whom I would give my life. It is a conscious and true choice, not the random act of fate or chance. In many ways, you will make the same choice when the time is right."

I allow myself the chance to look at her and try to accept some of my own advice - to listen and hear what she has to say. So I ask, "How can you doubt your true self? Allow yourself to feel - to have some happiness while you live - that does not compromise who and what you are."

--AS ARASHI--

My words are like those he has heard many times over-- only this time, my tone denotes the fear within my heart. I had learned that bravery was honorable but I only thought it applied in the battlefield. Yet I know I am brave beyond that realm and it is foolish of me to blame this lesson for the terrifying sensation I felt each time I tried to transcribe my emotions into words. I had never been good with words. They often came to me to console others, or to repeat the teachings of wisdom I learned at the Ise Shrine. I had to contemplate the reality that I rarely spoke my own words.

Just what did I mean by this new realization? I meant it exactly as I thought it. I do not speak words that come from deep within my being. Those words I hold like a secret and a treasure. I now ask myself for what do I save these phrases? Who will hear them when my body perishes, and with it the voice I was given? And these emotions; for who do I save them for? Are they any good to me when the spirit that was whispered into my mortal vessel vanishes to return to where it came from? So many questions and very few answers.

I had thought of all this on my own time-- but never had all of these insecurities presented themselves together. Why now? Why when I so desperately needed to understand the words of another? How could I hear and digest his voice, when my mind was shouting at me? The roots of my insecurities in the prophecy he proclaims lies in the frigid solace of my entire existence. I have always been alone. I was abandoned. Human emotions are frail and unpredictable; there is no guarantee he would not leave me if I were to accept the gift he places before me.

The tingle that begins at the core of my heart and slowly expands to course through my veins is beginning to rapture me once more. How is it that these emotions can affect the state of my body so much? No one I have ever met has had this bizarre power over my strength. Now, in this area of Sorata's spell, I find myself falling. Falling into a never ending void that makes my entire body shiver. I just want so badly to touch the ground. His eyes are like magnets, pulling me ever deeper into this pit of confusion.

His response to my question broke the palpable longing between the gap of our bodies. It surprised me that he answered me directly, without letting his humorous nature interfere with the seriousness of my topic. Inside of me a spark lit. A small burning flame of retribution. Was he judging my way of thinking? Did he condemn the way that I reasoned? It suddenly felt as though I was once again a child being lectured for my foolishness. How dare he question my decisions? I furrowed my brows and narrowed my eyes at him; he had no right to speak those words to me.

And yet, as fast as the flame sparked, it slowly dwindled out. Perhaps he was right. Just for once I could admit that his logic made more sense than mine. I had forgotten that my sacrifice was to achieve a greater purpose. I had forgotten that giving my life on the fated day did not mean I was not allowed to live the time between now and then. I had forgotten how to live. My lungs breathed and my heart pumped the blood I would one day shed-- but spiritually I had killed myself before the battle.

It was foolish for me to live as Sorata did-- in the moment. Our actions had consequences... and if I somehow became addicted to this rapture, who then would surrender their life for the sake of others? Could I walk out of my fortress and embrace him knowing that our touch could not last beyond the morning? Could I go back to selflessly giving up my life after living my own desires in the present? Was I truly that virtuous? Who would I chose to die for when the time came if I indulged in his love? Would this love not seek his safety and well being above all else?

_Am I admitting that I..._

He spoke the rest of his statement, and his words drowned my thoughts silent. My ears were listening, but for this moment I allowed my heart to listen also-- despite the agitation of my mind. Could it be that I was allowed to be happy?

"I..." I try to form a sentence in response but the words to describe my beliefs are no longer available to me. My voice falters again. When I die for the sake of what I was destined to protect our world will be spared. What legacy do I leave to those who survive and live on if I am afraid to embrace my own happiness? Are we not fighting for the sake of millions and millions; so they can know love, joy, and... fight for their joy?

"I have never thought of what I wanted."

The confession of this reality that pained me slipped out of my lips before I was able to catch it. For an instant, even in this state, I could feel my strength fail me. My knees became weak, and in a spasm I fell. The contact hurt my pride more than my body. I clutched onto the long flowing robe I wore and contained my need to weep. All my life I failed to live experiences that I would enjoy in fear of corrupting my virtue with the selfish desire of continuing to have that thing that made me content. Putting others before me shielded me from falling into temptation and it had worked until now.

I look up at Sorata. His eyes told so many feelings that I do not have the courage to return. Yet if only I could accept that the important part of this proposition was not how long it would last but instead how wonderful it could be. Did I truly want to take these strong emotions with me to my grave? No. My soul would not rest in peace knowing there was more I could have done...

**_How can you doubt your true self - to have some happiness while you live - that does not compromise who and what you are._**

My lips tremble as I try to utter my need for his help. I cannot explore this ocean of feelings on my own. Not this-- this is something I do not know how to do-- I cannot let go of the chains that bind me to my chosen unhappiness. With as much as I want to feel his touch against my skin, the burning effect it has over me... with as much as I want the tingle to expand into a blazing fire... I cannot help but fear for the end. The end where he would offer his life for my sake. How was I supposed to live after his death? Even thinking of it now, with nothing happening between us, it tears my soul apart.

How will I replenish those memories he would give to me when he was no longer with me? How to fill up the emptiness... Even if his sacrifice extended my own life for just a few seconds, how could I cope with the black hole that would replace my beating heart? _I would want to die with you..._

The moisture in my eyes stung like never before, as the tears rolled down my cheeks. I would not want to live without him. Could he not see that was why I did not want to accept his choice?

If you could only understand that...

"I don't want to live... without you..."

--AS SORATA--

Words are important to me. I use them perhaps more than I should because they are comfortable and flow easily. But now, I wonder if I have been careless in this need to speak my thoughts and feelings. As Arashi falls before me and begins to weep I cannot stop more words from spilling out of my mouth.

"Don't cry, please." I urge her, as though my command would some how make all of this better and return her to the familiar form that I carry in my heart. This other vision, the one that is hurt and in pain is more than I can bear to view. I close my eyes and kneel on the cool grass so that our faces remain level. It is not my desire to look down on her, but to always be her equal.

And she cannot look me in the eye as she makes a confession that rips at my heart. It is not the declaration of love that I so desire, but it is desperately close and offers me the hope to continue.

A third gong sounds, this time louder than the others.

"I don't want to live without you either." I admit. It is an honest answer that I have not considered. Am I somehow selfish in this 'sacrifice' that I offer - this irrational need to 'go first' does it somehow mask a fear of a life without her? Am I taking the cowards way out, rather than the noble road that I have lead myself to believe? Is this all a delusion to protect myself from the same pain that I will give her?

An unconscious frown falls on my face as I consider this new twist. How can I offer her this pain? I had felt joy at my decision, and now I am ashamed. It was never my intention to leave her in sorrow.

"But -" I begin, trying to assert my position, and yet I stop. The word hovers between us for it is the bridge between our realities. The exchange of life for death, happiness for sorrow - all of these come with a price. The conjunction symbolizes the transition. "But, I would not be sad, I would honor and cherish your memory if such came to be. And -"

Is there an And? Is there more to say? She does not know what she wants, only what she does not. Perhaps that is progress but the frustration remains. The simple words that I've said before somehow are more true in this moment then before. "And, I am living now, and I choose you."

_You are what I want. For all that you are, faults and all, to the end of time because death is a beginning, not an end._

-- AS ARASHI --

I feel him kneel to meet my eyes and once again he humbles me by his grace. How can he lower himself to the place where I have fallen when he is more pure of heart than I shall ever be? He lives understanding the concept of his destiny, yet his heart does not mourn as I have come to realize mine mourns. For I have met a man who inspires in me the hope to live beyond the scripts that were written for me before my birth; scripts that I must follow since it is the road map to my finale. He asks me not to weep, but such a request cannot be granted; like everything else he has asked me for. I frown slightly, realizing that all this time I have denied so much and yet he has continued to give. I feel lowly and unworthy of his affection for in the end I am no better than those who seek the destruction of this world.

Sorata was a man who was wiser than he let others believe. He could read us all so perfectly well. He understands Kamui's struggles and he speaks words that comfort his soul. I will never forget the time Kamui would not eat and Sorata managed to convince him to come down and join us. At that time he questioned me whether or not I would eat if he asked me to as well, and it is now that I realize that I would do anything he asked me to. However, if this is the truth, why do I continue to deny him the one request he seeks so vehemently?

He reciprocates my confession, the one my heart has guarded so carefully and it is then that I hear the remnants of the gong in the form of its echo. Time is slipping and soon I shall return to the solitude of my bedroom where I will drown in an ocean of confusion for I see no possible definitive outcome for this clandestine meeting. For a moment my mind skims over the play of emotions on his face and I realize that my doubts have shaken the foundation of his faith in the prophecy he claims he will adopt. If there is doubt within him, then how am I to be assured that this love he says he feels towards me will not be shaken when the final day comes? The expectation has been rooted in my heart; the day I will watch helplessly as he sacrifices his life for my own. He has promised this and thus I have envisioned it and it sickens me to admit that is what I expect in the end.

Am I trying to persuade him to change his choice in the matter to not feel heartbroken if he were to fail me in the end? Am I truly worried about his life? Am I not trying to spare myself the disappointment in the possibility that perhaps when the time came he would not give his life for me? He frowns, mirroring the same expression I bear and for one moment I feel disconnected from him. The invisible ties I knew bound us have suddenly disappeared and I feel so terribly alone. I have come to depend on this cord of unity between his soul and my own; I feel naked without it.

If in this fraction of a second my entire soul is shaken without the connection I hold with Sorata then how--- how am I to live without it when he is no longer alive? No. I cannot even reason with this question that has now frightened me further than his decision to choose me.

Why? Why must there be an end to beginnings? Is there not one beginning that can be pure enough to withstand the binds of time? I wish that this dream never rusted and withered away, but I am too realistic to hope as Sorata does. Time is running out.

_Can you not realize I have become aware of you... and I cannot go back._

I look at him, hoping to establish a truce because this struggle is slowly driving me into despair and I need resolve to function and fulfill my duties. His words are surprising, yet why it is so, I cannot explain. I should have known he would reason this way, yet I hoped that he would also feel as I do; that I was not the only one who feared the moment when our link would dissolve forever.

_I am not satisfied with your memory, Sorata. I need your presence._

And why is it that I am not content with just a memory? Perhaps because he has given me everything that he has-- and what he has not given me he has offered sincerely. He can live with my memory, yes. The memory of a woman who gave him nothing-- not even a smile. For that is the reality between us. He has nothing of weight that he will miss of me, but I-- I have everything that is Sorata to miss when he is...

I cannot live life without a purpose. If I fail to die for the sake of this world, what purpose do I have if Sorata fails me as well?

**_And, I am living now, and I choose you._**

Could I really be satisfied with just this brief moment? Could I surrender myself to this sentiment and indulge in his choice even if it will mortally wound me in the end? My tears are no longer flowing as I attempt to listen to the tiny... quiet... distant voice of my heart.

This ice inside of me makes me sick. I can no longer return to be the person I was. Not when my heart has learned to love another. For this is what has happened, even if I tried hard to stop the feeling from evolving. I thought I could control everything that had to do with my self. It was a way to conform to the idea that I could not have power over anything else; I refused to let anyone have power over me. I alone would walk towards the finale and I would die in an attempt to make the will of my destiny be fulfilled. If I died it would not be by the hand of the enemy, if not by the hand of fate that ordained such an end for me.

My feelings were my own; to control and to suppress however I wanted. I was careless. I did not weigh the true potential of Sorata's threat to render my defenses useless and in this mistake lies my current predicament. I do not know how to make myself happy, how then can I make him happy? The voice of my heart I can now hear and it speaks through my lips...

"Show me... I would not know how to make our time... memorable. I don't know how to be happy. I never learned how to do this. And it shames me.."

My admission has several meanings, but I would not be specific in a moment of impulse.

"And I do not know what I must do to show you... what I feel inside." My hands clasp over each other as I place them over my living heart, "And I need to know there is more beyond this world-- or I cannot go in peace because I would wander in search of you..."

_For I am dependent now that I know such an intense emotion... and I am unwilling to return to the emptiness I knew... and to fill this void I would do anything... now that I realize half of my soul had been missing._

--AS SORATA

She doesn't know how to be happy?

I can only react in stunned silence as Arashi finally tells me why she rejects my offer. It is more than fear. I am facing an insurmountable barrier.

How does one teach happiness? It is impossible. No soft spoken questions or prompts - it is not a subject that I can tutor.

Maybe she does not want to be happy.

Unable to stop myself, I stand and move away from her, confused and wary. "You don't learn happiness - it is not mathematics."

How can she not know joy? How can she not understand or desire it for the way the feeling falls on you and demands nothing.

And yet, I realize as I perform the ordinary gesture of running an absent hand through my hair that our lives have not been ordinary. I was taken from my parents and home early so I would not long for or remember them.

Perhaps the elders understood better than I the dangers of the familiar, the stable and of love. Maybe in some way these feelings that I have upset the delicate balance and Arashi, wiser than I, sees the danger.

I know nothing of her life before I met her. The past was never important to me. I could probe, but can already imagine the answers.

_I have lived - and Arashi has waited. _

Now it is my turn to wait. My heart breaks because in this instant I know that I am waiting for something that will never come.

"I cannot teach you." I repeat, and my voice shares my sorrow. Love does not have to be returned for it to be true. But when it is not, the emotion is less than what it could be.

_We are less than what we could be._

I don't want her to wander in search of me. I want her to realize that she is already a part of me and will never be alone. Words are not enough. And touch is impossible.

A fourth gong sounds as I struggle to remember why I started this journey.

I wanted Arashi to understand what I know.

Only now, I start to laugh because it is clear that I know nothing.

--AS ARASHI --

My eyes were on his as I watch and wait for his reaction, hoping that he would speak words of hope for my disability but, with much horror I realize that those words would never come out of his mouth. In that moment, the cord of our union becomes visible to me. I know it to be an illusion, but the reality of it is enough to make my heart feel torn especially as he stands and moves away from me. The motion tugs my soul as his moves repelled by my confession; I press my hands tighter against my chest as if my physical force can hold the link in place in a futile attempt to save what I knew could never be.

He speaks as I expected and his words are like a bucket of cold water that falls over my fragile and tiny hope. Everything that I know in this life I have learned. Nothing that I am came from merely existing; I had to construct everything with my knowledge. If happiness could not be learned as he claimed then how could I ever grasp this sentiment that has eluded me since the day of my birth? How is it that he expects me to feel joy if I do not know how to feel it? Certainly there was a way to learn how to do this. A sense of despair falls on me like a thin veil and for a long while I can barely see him standing before me. The little flame of hope he had sparked within me he has blown away with the air of defeat. I see it in his eyes; he realizes as I had that this could never truly happen between us.

Anger boils within the pit of my stomach as I try to reason with myself. Why did he call me out here to expose my fears if he would not comfort me in the manner he always has? Why do you desire me if in your heart, deep down, you know this is impossible? Now that I have fallen for the light that he is how can he do this to me? That is why I know you will fail me in the end-- after all. There could never be a beginning to us and thus for that reason there would never be an end; for no end can come when nothing is begun. I am alone; as I was when I was born and as I will be when I die. Such is my destiny and it was foolish of me to dream of an alternate ending.

My hands fall from my chest and the cord that united my soul to his breaks and the image my eyes see is even more painful than the hole my heart has become. It is only proper that he should take from me what he gave me. No one else had the right to this; not even death. Yet it hurts; it hurts as though a sword had pierced the very organ. The ice that had melted into unknown parts of my core slowly start to freeze only this time they have taken more than my heart. I am once again Arashi Kishuu the Dragon of Heaven a fact that I must never again forsake. For there is room for me to be anyone else other than who I constructed with much effort. I am what I learned and I am molded into the image of my experience and knowledge.

I stand with the sound of the gong and with this motion so does the barrier that Sorata had managed to penetrate once. I look at him-- with eyes that shielded the depth of the emotions I had to force back into my heart-- and I move closer to him. His laughter only confirms that he too has realized what I have.

"Then there is nothing left for you and me." I say and my voice is a whisper, "Still... I must know why you summoned me here. It is only fair for you to explain after I have revealed so much that should have never been known."

--AS SORATA--

I sense her anger. Perhaps any emotion is better than none. It was the response I wanted - some sort of passion and fire rather than sadness and defeat, but now that I have it, I am overwhelmed with frustration.

_Why can't this be simple?_

And now I am handed back everything that I offered in a nice tidy package. Convenient for us both. And so terribly sad. If there is nothing left than we should all just go back to bed and fall into the black nothingness of sleep. But I cannot release the alternate reality. Something compels me to stay and reveal one thing more.

Her question offers the opportunity to show, rather than to simply use more words in the ultimate void that separates us. My left palm opens and a small glowing blue orb appears. Like a star sapphire, shards of white lightning glow from within making the sphere appear alive.

"I called you here because I could." I confess honestly. "I have irrevocably given a part of myself to protect you. Should you choose to look, it too is as visible as this part of **your** soul that I now show you and hold close to my heart.

"We are linked you and I. With great care do I guard not only this part of you that I can see and touch, but all that you are and will be. I could not rest until I told you that I loved you - because it is true. The future is uncertain and somehow, tonight, I could keep the secret no longer. I heard your heart cry through the walls that divide us. I wanted you to know that you are never alone.

"When I go - part of me will remain, and will always be with you. But I was suddenly afraid that you would **never **look. And maybe that is something that I can teach you - for both of our sakes."

With a nod, I instruct, "Open your left hand."

--AS ARASHI --

It is an emotion that I always keep in check; anger. Perhaps it is more frustration than rage what moved me to my feet, but I am grateful for the emotion this time. For now I have regained the part of my dignity that I had lost. There should never be so much exposure of inner thoughts as have been displayed tonight. Yet, even as I think these words, I feel deeply empty because if one cannot trust another human being what hope is there for the generation we are dying to save? I had never felt so shaken in my life and I can only desire that these walls crumble so that the void of my bedroom engulfs me once more. This is far more painful than the doubts I had become used to.

It is perhaps selfish of me to stand there and assume the position of indifference that has now washed my once confused and sincere expression. My eyes display nothing but equality if even a bit of arrogance as strange as that emotion is for someone like me. I thrive in being humble and yet I stand before him passing sentence as if this task were part of my duties. If he is to accept this sentiment that I quietly offer then I know very well all is lost and that there had never been anything to gain to begin with.

Then with much care, his left palm extends before me as it slowly opens to reveal an orb. A brief shock of electricity runs through my chest and I take a step back without much will over the motion. It is living, this much is evident in the manner of the white threads of life that move and flutter within the blue sea of the ball and I am both amazed and afraid at the sight of it. My eyes trail from the orb up his arm and once again fall on his eyes as he speaks to me. He is stating another confession and once again I realize he has acted without any regard to my feelings in this matter. It angers me that he does not take my opinion into consideration, for who is he to carry a piece of me with him? With what permission has he bound me to him in this manner?

For as he says, we are connected and everything that concerns him transmits through invisible cords that reach me no matter where I am. If only I did not care for him I would consider it a curse, but given the depth of my feelings I am grateful no matter how much I try to deny it; for it is company to my lonely soul. I take the step I had withdrawn in hopes of reconciling with this truth I knew could never become a lie. His words have an effect on me this evening that I cannot seem to defend from and I find my right hand trying to reach out to his, drawn to the orb for its significance. Still I cannot seem to cross the three inch gap to reach my objective and I stand there, frozen, as if time itself has ceased.

"I want to believe." are words that slip in a whisper so soft that I could not even hear my voice through the silence.

My right hand falls to my side when he repeats the eminent reality that he will leave me alone in this world and once again I cannot control the despair within my heart. How does he know that if he were to go away I would grieve to the point that I would never seek this part of himself that he has given me as a gift? It is this marvelous ability to decipher the mysteries of my soul, that I have not been able to unravel, what amazes me into almost platonic idolatry. If there is something that I can learn from him then I must not let the opportunity pass me idly by. With a shaky arm I reach out, willing the hand steady as my left palm opens before him.

"I am willing."

--AS SORATA

I had not been exaggerating in my statement of my fear that she would abandon all hope once I had gone and forsake my memory. I know now as I see her anger and despair that she would not have looked. Part of me feels vindicated that I pushed for this time together, but otherwise I am sad in what I must teach.

She does not understand that the small blue orb that I hold she gave to me. It was not something that I stole from her. It is a gift, even if unconsciously given. Does that lower its value or make it all the more precious. I hesitate to ponder the question, but now, as I see her accept what I say, I understand that in time it will not matter.

She cares for me. For the first time I can see it in her eyes and the hope that I lost before returns to me as she opens her palm and shows that part of myself that I gave her with every part of my being. It is green, another round orb that lives just as her representation does with me. In many ways it is more than my soul, it is also a part of my heart that beats in time with her. All the poets have made light of such a phrase, but as I see the orb pulse I can feel the rhythm mirror the blood that surges through my veins.

As we watch, the orb leaves her palm and floats up. The blue one that I hold joins it in a swirling dance in the non-existent air that surrounds us. Slowly the spinning stops. They touch, for just an instant, like a butterfly kiss, before returning to two separate hands that remain open waiting to accept them.

"You have but to look." I repeat. "If you want to believe - then believe."

I swallow, my emotions suddenly greater than I can control. "Don't deny yourself love Arashi." I blink rapidly, as I find tears uncharacteristically pricking my eyes. I try to express the great emotion in my heart but all I can utter is the simple word, "Please -"

A fifth gong sounds, and I know our time together is over. I try to hold the vision just a moment longer, so that I can hear her answer, but it takes all my energy and I can speak no more.

--AS ARASHI --

I had been staring at Sorata, but as my eyes fall to my palm I look with surprise at what is revealed before me. It is another orb, only this one is green and for a moment it looks like a shiny emerald that pulsates over my ivory flesh, glowing against my cold skin and warming my hand with its life. It is then that I understand why I always felt this sense of wholeness by Sorata's side; the feeling creeps up my arm and expands and the warmth is absolute and unyielding against my defenses. I see and understand that we have both given a piece of our souls to the other and this fact still amazes me. I am unaware of how this happened to begin with and for someone who always questions as I do, for once I just let it go and accept this for a reality that cannot be shaken.

Yet with the fact comes momentary fear. It only lasts a few blinks as the certainty I feel through my body quickly dissolves my natural doubts and I am simply left with a sensation that I have never felt before. I am captivated by the beauty and the realism of the green orb; I am puzzled that it had always been with me and that I had never realized it. How could I have missed sensing its presence? As my eyes attempt to dig deeper into the core of the orb, I find that both his and mine begin to swirl upwards in rhythmic unison. For an instant I feel my own heart soar only the feeling intensifies as the two orbs touch for a brief moment and that touch vibrates through my chest. I am unable to move even though my body tingles with the need of motion. I simply stare as the orb that represents that part of Sorata -- that he had given me willingly-- returns to my waiting palm.

There is so much that I could say at this moment, but words as usual fail me. There is no doubt that now that I know I would seek as he asks. Am I satisfied with this brush of joy when I know his existence can provide me so much more? I am overjoyed and saddened all at once and I only wish I could communicate this to him but my lips never part in utterance of this confession. Even now as he asks me not to deny this love that I am feeling can I profess what is screaming inside of me. Why is it so difficult for me to yank these words from the zealous hold of my heart and pour them onto him to delight him as he delights me? For the longing in his eyes must clearly reflect my own as he pleads a silent request that I will never hear. The words sting my throat and my vocal chords feel strained and just as I dig the courage to speak, the fifth gong silences my whisper. My lips barely part as I close my eyes knowing this will all whither away and that my chance to show him will be gone.

In the few seconds that I await in defeat, a bubble of hope surges through my chest and I open my eyes and look at him. I can see him using the strength he has in him to hold this dream for just a few moments longer and it is then that my heart explodes with determination. He will never fail me and he will fight with the last of his strength as he has promised me. It is a sample of his devotion and my own devotion flourishes like a late blossom. Unwilling to leave, my legs move forwards as my arm reaches out to him. I close my eyes and hope with all of my being that he understands and that my fingers do not go through him as if he were an apparition. My fingertips make contact with his face and I clutch my left hand around the orb I can no longer feel.

"Let it be." I plead.

--AS SORATA

I am no longer in my room, and I am no longer in my vision. Somehow in the interim my physical form has moved as though it too wanted to journey closer to Arashi. Eyes close and then open to reveal I am standing in the hallway of our shared home in Tokyo.

Reality returns, and Arashi is also standing here in this time and space, her arm lifted and touching my face. I reach up, and capture that hand with my own, forcing it closer so that her palm is held fast against my cheek.

I long for this moment to last. I feel as though I am standing on the brink of understanding and I have but to take that final step to have my hearts desire.

I know what I want. She knows what she doesn't want. Balance. Arashi in her infinite wisdom has uttered the ultimate truth.

**Let it be.**

The balance of our desires is not really ours to choose. God, fate and the paths of our destiny will shape our lives. We can only go where those paths lead.

For just a moment my heart skips and I feel the panic of the lost, as though this relinquishing of control will be my downfall. I fear that I will do more than take one final step and instead will rush forward into the brink and fall into the dark. Then I feel her pulse through my fingers. As I hold her wrist, and I see the trust in her eyes, I know, that like her, I am not alone on the journey.

And that is enough.

My fingers lace with hers, and I lower our joined hands so that our arms form a deep V between us. Linked, and yet free.

Words fail me. But I understand, as never before, that to truly be a part of Arashi, I must let her go and stop trying to change her.

And so, in response to her words - I let it be. My fingers fall away from her, and my hand comes to rest at my side and we stand two together, and yet two alone.

--AS ARASHI--

With shut eyes I feel the protective cover of my priestess garments slide from my body as though I were suddenly exposed in nudity. The sensation is due to the fact that I know I am no longer to see the face that my fingertips have caressed before all this wasted away. Yet as my soul returns to my vessel I feel my body standing and my hand still making contact with the flesh of the man I had so much to say to. My eyes open instantly as I find myself staring into the eyes of Sorata. We are standing in the hallway of the home we share. Our bodies have defied the walls that separate us and have connected even as our souls had connected moments prior.

Somehow as reality this feels wrong and I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment that I am holding him in such a needing manner. If only I could move and walk away pretending this had not happened then perhaps I could save my heart the shatter I began to feel within. Now it was evident that we had both truly lived that momentary dream in a realm that would be our perfect home; I would not be able to deny this episode in the morning. For now he has sought in my eyes the feelings I had not spoken and once again I feel nude before him. He has the power to strip my soul of its very essence and tap into places I never knew existed.

The words I whispered in hopes of holding the illusion registered in Sorata's mind as he clutches my hand further against his cheek and the contact sends tingling waves down my arm. Such a simple gesture can stir such powerful emotions and this terrifies me more than the prospect of the world dying. These feelings leave me vulnerable and longing for more. What more is there beyond this? I dare not seek further to answer this tormenting question. The touch bears the same urgency I feel in the pit of my stomach and I find myself wishing to make further contact with his electrifying skin. He makes me feel alive and that is something I had not felt in many, many years. It had been so long a time that I had forgotten how wonderful it was to feel the blood rushing through my veins; to feel the pulses in every inch of my body.

"Sorata..." I whisper weakly and I know that only I heard my voice.

It is very like me to lose my speech since all my senses are trying to control the reactions of my body and spirit. The effort leaves me breathless and I stand before him numb with anticipation for something that cannot ever be. Sorata and I can never accomplish more than a partnership to attempt to save the world in this cursed lifetime. Nothing more is waiting for him and me beyond this goal and it tears me apart. Why did I have to love him this way? In a way that stabbed my senses and made me the quiet mess that holds his hand. We are two. Two people that have so much to say and give to the other but will never say or give anything. We are two people who belong and yet cannot be. Why? Why is fate cruel? Why did I have to open my eyes and heart to this sentiment that chokes me?

His fingers lace through mine and my stubborn hope once again surfaces in this ocean of pessimism. This hope I had easily controlled in the past has rebelled against my wishes and now does as it pleases. For one brief moment I expect him to say something-- anything-- that allows me to believe that the admission of all I revealed to him was worth pursuing. I want to hear that foolish optimism speak the words that have kept my heart hanging on the thread of hope-- even if I denied this to myself. I want him to tell me that we can fight the demons that will devour us. I want to hear him say he will fight for _our_ future. Upon returning to the reality of our lives I only wish to hear the words he always says to me. But they never come. I swallow the bubbling sob in my throat and clutch onto the remnants of my pride as his hand detangles itself from my own.

It is obvious that tonight he will not be the Sorata I expect. As my hand swings back to the side of my body, I am left even more ashamed than before. How foolish I had been to even consider forsaking my fears to pursue this wild dream he tempted me with so many times before. As I stand before him, painfully recognizing the resolution in his eyes to let this be as was, I take a step back in retreat. For what then did he desire to hear a confession from me? Why plead with me in the last minutes of this struggle if he would abandon the battle in the end? The hand that held his only moments prior trembled in reaction of so many different emotions. The most painful truth slapped me as a cruel reminder. In the end I will be alone. My eyes fall to my left hand, the same hand that held the piece of his soul not long ago and I wink the tears away.

_It's not enough..._

I still cannot remove my eyes from my hand as I realize that I am indeed a selfish woman. I rather not have anything for at least that way I would go from this world in peace knowing that I lusted after nothing. I could die with tranquility that my heart was as pure as humanly possible. There was nothing to regret and nothing else to come back for. Yet here I stand, staring at the hand that had held something I never asked for. A gift that now felt unwelcome-- almost like a curse. Why? Why did he have to do this to me? I was so content before with the life I lead; that empty life that was more comfortable than this one he had converted mine into. There was nothing in my life. No one that i_my/i_ heart wanted to protect. For Kamui-- and even this world-- both are imposed as part of my destiny, but Sorata...

My throat, my stomach, my heart-- all three are turned to knots. There is so much that I had dug from the coffin that was my heart to project to him and now all of those things had to go back. Those things would never fit as neatly as before and I would have to learn how to live with this exposure. I am changed. With as much as I tried to stop this interior morphing in the end I failed miserably. He has changed me. He has made me doubt my beliefs and has shaken my defenses to rubble. He, the man I thought was a fool, changed me; like a patient sculptor I have been molded into someone new. _And now he washes his hands free of the clay... as if I had never been modified..._

The coldness seeps back into my veins and settles in my heart once more. I glance up at him, hoping that my eyes reveal not the hurt I felt within. My expression is blank and this takes all my will to accomplish. I rebuke my trembling body and contain the emotions that endanger my position. He knows. I know he has seen into my soul and he knows what I could not have said with words and he has chosen to stand besides me as an equal, a companion and nothing more. _As should be..._ The hope I had known has gone out; like the tiny flame of a candle that was wrongfully placed by an open window. The only gesture that betrays my apparent acceptance is the furrow of my brows as I look at Sorata for the last time. If words would not do, then perhaps one last glance would.

Sighing, I open my mouth to say something casual or perhaps even excuse my proximity earlier but no words come out. There is nothing to say when what should have been said will never be spoken. So instead of prolonging this misery I feel, I turn on my heels but delay just an instant to walk away. I will let it be as has been chosen by a higher power that moves beyond my will.

--AS SORATA--

Fate rules our lives. No matter how much I delude myself that free will provides balance I see that the scales have tipped. In the end we have no control of our lives or the lives of others. We were chosen by some higher power to fulfill a pre-scripted destiny. I know the answer to that future and have foreseen the end. Yet somehow, I did not foresee this end – that she would turn and walk away from me, and not look back.

_Or did I?_

Arashi has always been closed. Should I have expected for even a second that she would look at me and discard years of training? That somehow bfor me/b she would change?

_My life has purpose._

And yet, I have expended great energy to convince someone that death has purpose. Sacrifice in the name of another - is life only about giving and never taking? Suddenly, I want to take. My hand closes into a fist as I fight the uncharacteristic urge to put myself first and reclaim what I saw in Arashi's eyes. I want to follow her down the hall and….

I look down at my fist and stare at the white knuckles, feeling the pain of my finger nails biting in to my palm. Anger is not love; selfishness is just another form of fear. I breathe in and open my fingers as I exhale. In the dimly lit hall I cannot see the blue orb I held earlier. My hand is empty. My lined palm looks the same, and yet I am forever changed by what happened tonight.

I let her go, and I know what I have lost. I try to convince myself it is for the best. If I were to pursue her and demand that she speak what I know is in her heart - demand that she be mine if only for a moment - I would be no better than those who continue to pull the unseen strings of our lives.

Fate. Destiny. I have failed again to fight these foes. Love cannot break these chains. The taste in my mouth is bitter but I cannot let hope leave my heart. I saw a spark in her eyes. I saw life. Maybe, just maybe, if death truly is a beginning, I can have what I want on the other side.

_Others have conquered insurmountable barriers before because they believed._

I turn and see the door to my own room open and waiting for me. My feet are heavy as I walk towards the light. Life is a journey. Death is a journey. Perhaps both we start on our own, but it doesn't have to end that way.

I am back alone in my reality - and I am hungry.

**_THE END_**


End file.
